


Heartbeat

by FreeGrain



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Azriel bashing, F/F, Fluffy but also mildly angsty, Just a fluffy Mesta fic, canonverse, just be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeGrain/pseuds/FreeGrain
Summary: When Mor first meets the Acheron sisters, she doesn't know what they think of them. But circumstance and curosity gets the better of her and she soon sees under Nesta's shell. And maybe... she falls in love.~•~•~•~•~•~{Mesta}{Mor x Nesta}





	Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> It took me long enough but I have finally finished this. Just a little warning if you didn't read the tags: Azriel bashing. 
> 
> Don't like? Don't read please. But if you good, please enjoy ^-^

"So where were you sneaking off to at this time of night?"

Mor froze like a deer in the headlights when she heard her voice. It was nighttime and the others should have been sleeping. How did she get caught?

Mor turned slowly, only to see Nesta Archeron standing on the steps. She looked like a ghost in the darkness; beautiful but like ice. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her hair was arranged to hide the newly curved tips of her ears.

There was no smile.

Of course there wasn't. She hadn't smiled since she'd been taken here.

"How did you know I was here?" Mor had been doing this for years yet none of the others had ever caught her sneaking back in.

Nesta shrugged carelessly. "My hearing… it's a lot stronger than I'm used to." There was a flicker of sadness but it was gone as quickly as it came. "I can hear things I don't want to now." Her gaze flickered down to her chest. "I can hear your heart beating. I heard it leave the house and return hours later." A faint ghost of humour touched her features. "It sped up when I caught you."

Mor didn't know as she'd never been human but the faes' senses were said to be so much stronger than humans'. The sisters hadn't been here for long, hadn't had their new bodies for long.

And from the looks of it, Nesta was having a hard time adjusting.

"Elain is sleeping," Nesta said suddenly. "For the first time in this house. She's like me as well—can't control her new body. I didn't want to disturb her from this one little respite."

Nesta loved her sister. Mor was certain she'd die for her if it came to it. Sometimes Mor wondered what it was like for your family to care about you. Then she remembered she didn't care.

"You never answered my question." Nesta's eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. "Where were you sneaking off to at this time of night?"

To Rita's. To dance the night away with people she felt comfortable with. A place where she felt like she was free and herself—away from this house. And him...

Mor didn't say any of it, only smiled sweetly at Nesta. Nesta hardly batted an eyelash.

"A girl's got to have _some_ secrets, Nesta," Mor said with a coy smile. "Adds to the fun."

Nesta arched an eyebrow. "Of course. _Fun_."

Mor had never met anyone like her. It was like her new body had enhanced sight that could strip away all barriers and walls to leave her bare before her. She saw right through her act but didn't press her. It made her feel vulnerable, but so real at the same time.

"Well, it's been lovely chatting but I should be off to sleep now," Mor said hurriedly. "See you."

Nesta said nothing as Mor walked past her up the stairs.

Mor's heart was beating in her chest; a sound Nesta could probably hear right now. If Mor focused, she could hear the heartbeats of everyone in the house. Slow and steady, faintly beating in the background, but there. She didn't even notice, she was so used to it.

But if you weren't, if you'd never had fae hearing, Mor couldn't even begin to imagine how horrible it must be.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Rhys of your little trip." Suddenly Nesta's voice came from below her. "Or any of the others. Your secret is safe with me."

Something made Mor turn in her tracks. But when she looked back, Nesta was already gone.

* * *

Mor entered the sisters' suite of multiple rooms, balancing a tray in her arms. It was a quiet day around the house. Rhys and Cassian were off doing "High Lord" business around the city while Azriel had flown to see if the shields around the Spring Court had weakened. To try and see what was happening to Feyre.

And who ever knew where Amren was?

Mor walked down the corridor before she turned the corner to where Nesta usually sat. Cassian sometimes came down but Mor knew Nesta liked her better. She was always on her guard when he came down, snapping and glaring in the way a cornered dog might bite.

But when she came, Nesta acted indifferent but there was always a softer side. A nicer expression on her face.

Nesta sat not in her usual spot, but on a long couch, legs curled beneath her with Elain's head in her lap. She held a book one hand while the other stroked Elain's hair. Both were looking up like they'd expected her. Mor walked closer.

"I… I brought you food." She was always awkward with what to say. There was no right way. They hardly ever finished one meal between them but she kept returning.

Rhys had shrugged it off, telling her it was just a waste of good food but Mor wasn't going to give up on them. These poor girls had gone through enough, the least she could do was show she cared.

Nesta's gaze swept towards the table next to them, a silent acceptance that Mor had come to recognise. She didn't talk to her—to any of them—that much.

Mor walked over and set the tray down, careful not to spill any of the soup. She lingered for a second then made to leave but turned back. Something held her mind.

"Are—are you sleeping?" Mor asked, question directed towards Elain. "I'd like to help if I could… I could get one of the healers in town to make some herbal remedy—just something that might help."

Nesta glanced down at Elain and so did Mor.

Where Nesta's eyes were cold, Elain's eyes were empty. She looked hollow inside. She hadn't smiled either.

But behind the window to her soul, something flickered. Elain properly looked at her for the first time yet. And she nodded.

Nesta met Mor's gaze with silent thanks. Her hand traced Elain's ear, sinking back into the luscious strands of her hair.

"I'll return later and bring it to you," Mor promised. Both nodded this time and when Nesta looked down at her sister, Mor swore the corners of her mouth rose slightly.

* * *

 Rhys and Cassian returned for dinner but left almost immediately afterwards. Apparently they'd been visiting Illyrian training camps in hope of raising an army to aid them. Things were going mediocrely at best.

Azriel didn't even come back.

It was dark by the time Mor went back to the library, a small concoction in hand. Nesta was sitting in the couch like she'd been that morning but Elain was nowhere to be seen. The soup on the tray had hardly been touched.

"I'll bring it to her," Nesta said, closing her book. "Thank you."

Mor handed over the glass vial. "You're welcome. It's small, just to see if it works. I can get more if you need it."

Nesta eyed the small bottle before placing it on the desk next to her. She nodded. But Mor didn't leave.

"... do you need some? To help you sleep?"

Nesta's eyes flashed once. "I? This is for Elain because… because she's hurt. I can't look after her if I'm knocked out with _herbs_."

"Then I could help you, help you control your hearing." Mor didn't want to just walk away. She wanted to help her.

Nesta went still, considering her. It was one of the few times in her life that someone made her feel small under their gaze but the way she looked at her was like she never saw her at all.

Nesta shook her head. "Generous as you are, I will decline. I nap enough during the day when I fall asleep. Besides, it keeps me awake so I can keep Elain is safe."

All these nights, Nesta had been watching over her sister. Keeping guard over her. She was trying to protect her so nothing would ever hurt her again.

"You can trust us, you know."

"I can trust _you_ , perhaps," Nesta sniffed. "But the others? Not so much."

Nesta picked up her book again, a signal for Mor to leave her alone. And Mor took it. She knew when she was unwanted. She was just rounding the corner when Nesta called out for her again.

"Mor?"

Mor paused, knowing that she knew she did. It was quiet for a second before Nesta spoke again.

"Mor, why can you never look the dark one in the eye? The one with the shadows."

Mor felt herself tense up on the spot. She could feel Nesta looking at her, ears zeroed in on her heart. Listening to it speed up. Mor said nothing.

"Faster," Nesta murmured. "Faster. Why?"

Again, Mor said nothing.

Nesta didn't say anything for a while and the two of them stayed in silence. Mor could hear the thrum of her heart, the traitorous part of her body she couldn't control. The part that revealed how she really felt.

"Does he scare you, Mor?" Nesta whispered. She said it like she saw right through her again. "Why? I can tell you're more than just a pretty face; power lies beneath your perfect skin. So why? Why does he scare you?"

Mor didn't answer. She strode forward as fast as she could without running and shoved her way out of the library. And all the while she could feel Nesta's ears tracking her heartbeat as she fled.

* * *

Mor was relieved when Feyre came back unscathed. It had weeks since the raid on Hybern had gone tragically wrong. Which, when looking back, had been a terrible plan in the first place but Rhys had made it clear that it wasn't her place to criticise him. Sometimes she wondered why she put up with them.

She hugged the woman when she clambered up that snow-covered hill. She missed her, she'd admit. Feyre might have been somewhat arrogant and quite self righteous but she cared for her greatly. It was relief to have someone mildly sane with her.

But when Feyre returned she brought only trouble.

Mor didn't know much about the man from the Spring Court, only that he'd once been Tamlin's right hand. She didn't dislike him—on the contrary, she believed that if things were different they may even have been friends.

But the moment he stepped through the door, Mor knew things would get ugly. Not with Rhys or Cassian or any of the Night Court but with Nesta.

All of them had heard it that night; what Lucien had gasped when Elain emerged from the cauldron. They knew of the bond that lay between them.

But Mor knew Nesta wouldn't let him anywhere near her. And if Mor knew anything about fae men and their mates, even the kindest of souls were turned into the most brutal of men.

Mor didn't accompany the others on the visit and regretted it almost immediately. Nesta trusted her—or trusted her the most out of all of them—her nerves would be calmer if she was present. But Feyre was her sister and Mor hoped that that would be enough to keep things peaceful.

Even so, Mor paced the floor anxiously, ears focused and listening. She could not hear their words or conversations, they were too far for her hearing. But one thing stood out over it all, a lone sound of which Mor didn't know why was so clear: Nesta's heartbeat.

It was slow and normal at first but suddenly sped up. The others must have entered the room. Her heart rate spiked up and down in what Mor assumed was anger but she didn't move from her seat. Mor was worried about the young woman.

"Pacing will wear you out," Amren drawled from the doorway.

Mor snapped her head up and spotted the smaller woman lounging in the doorway. She was smiling at her in the same way a cat might leer at its prey.

"You might be eternally young but you're not eternally full of energy."

Mor didn't say anything.

Amren paced into the room, squinting at her. "You look worried, Mor. Is something wrong?" Her smile returned. "Is it that red haired fellow? Does he tick you off?"

Not me, she thought, Nesta. Elain. She didn't voice her thoughts, only shook her head. Amren didn't press her. Instead she knelt down by the fire.

"Azriel was looking for you," she said casually. "He's been so busy recently, he's hardly seen you."

Mor's stomach curled and she forced herself to smile back. Thankfully Amren was too focused on the flickering flames to see her discomfort.

"I'll… I'll look for him," she said, keeping her voice level and natural. Amren didn't seem to care.

Mor left the room in a hurry, heading for the stairs. She bumped into Feyre, Cassian and Lucien on her way. Feyre was smouldering like she'd been outrageously offended, Cassian was growling but looking wistful. And Lucien, the poor lost man, was looking confused and hurt.

"How are they?" she asked.

Feyre shook her head. "They hate it," she said miserably. "They hate everything here and what more, they might even hate me."

Mor didn't want to point out that while Feyre never wanted any of this to happen, her sisters had every right to feel angry. They been taken against their will twice, gone through something that physically changed them. They had every right to hate it. Instead she hugged her.

After exchanging a few more words, she left the trio to head to the sisters' rooms. If there was one place Azriel wouldn't go, it was there. Even he respected their privacy.

She located Nesta in the library, curled up on a couch with a book in her hand. But she was just staring at the pages with her heart racing at several miles an hour. The candle's light flickered like it was angry.

"You can sit." Nesta remained short and snappy but there was a noticeable tremor in her voice.

Mor sat down next to her. Nesta continued staring at the book in the guise of reading. Mor saw right through it.

"You're scared."

"You are too!" Nesta snapped before the last words even left her mouth.

Mor met her gaze and for first time ever, saw vulnerability in her blue-grey eyes. There was fear and worry painted as clear as day within them but they were accompanied by a hot searing determination that made Mor's heart flutter.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

At that Nesta seemed to slump in her chair. Her shoulders dropped.

"I'm… I'm just tired," she mumbled. "I try to protect her but I know that I can't… Not against them." She raised her head. "The other one, Cassian, he might as well have threatened me."

"Cassian did?" That didn't sound like him.

Nesta nodded wearily. "I didn't—didn't want the red haired one going near Elain. Feyre was insistent but she wouldn't fight me if I thought it was wrong. But Cassian… he came up in my face and told me that if I came between a "male" and his mate, I'd learn the hard way what happens. I.. I let them through. I let that _man_ into her room..."

That sounded… awful. Mor never really understood the obsession with fae men and mates. Having the bond shouldn't change you as a person. It shouldn't make you violent or hurt someone. Mor didn't have her mating bond, she didn't if know if she'd ever have one. Neither did Cassian or Azriel so she didn't get their gusto about mates either.

But she understood Nesta's worry, if the stories she'd heard were true. The things some men did in the name of 'love'...

"Elain is fine," Mor tried.

"No, she's not!"

"... do you want to yell at me?" Mor asked.

Nesta gazed at her with such a flame. But she dropped her stare with a sigh. "No… no, not you… you were always kind to us. Even when I was harsh to you."

"You weren't," Mor insisted. "All your actions were fair, I don't blame you."

Nesta leaned back in her chair. "Why did things have to change like this? Everything just went downhill…" Her eyelids drooped as she pulled her legs up and hugged herself.

"Nesta-"

Nesta looked over at her, the fiery determination returning. "Will you watch over me? Will you watch over her?"

Mor reached for her and when Nesta leaned towards her, Mor wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," she promised, touching her hand. "That I will swear to you."

And it wasn't a lie. No one was going to hurt any of the Acheron sisters while she had life in her. She'd protect them to her last breath.

Nesta's eyelids fluttered with exhaustion as she tried to nod with confidence. But she was failing badly.

"Hey… hey come on," Mor murmured. "I'll walk you to your room." Nesta didn't object when Mor helped her stand. Together they walked from the library down to their shared rooms. Mor followed her sleepy directions until they came to a door.

Elain was lying on a large double bed, body curled around herself. A glance told Mor the other room was empty and unused. The sisters slept together—when they did sleep, that was.

"Mor…" Nesta mumbled as Mor helped her change into something lighter for sleeping. "Mor… Thank you."

Nesta crawled into bed without stirring Elain. Her sister shifted in her sleep, letting out a whine. Nesta stilled her with a gentle hand around her shoulders.

With her job seeming to be done, Mor turned to leave.

"Mor, wait." Nesta's call stopped her. Mor paused and looked around.

"Be here when I wake up. Please."

The room was dark but Mor clearly saw the brightness of her eyes. Mor nodded silently. And Nesta lay back down.

Mor didn't sleep that much that night. When she closed her eyes, all she heard was a steady rhythmic noise. Like a faint heartbeat finally at rest.

When the sun rose and streamed through the window, Mor dressed and made her way to the Acherons' room. She hesitated outside the door for a few minutes before silently slipping inside. They were still sleeping peacefully.

Mor sat down by the window, occupying herself with watching the sunrise. Red and yellow streaked the sky, like the world had been bathed in blood. But it was beautiful at the same time.

"Mor."

Nesta sat up, looking sleepily but for the first time well rested. Mor tilted her head and nodded in reassurance.

And for the first time, Nesta smiled a proper smile.

* * *

Nesta looked glorious at dinner later that day. Someone had found her a dark blue gown that only accented her beauty. Silver combs held her hair up in an elegant style, loose strands brushed away so they could clearly see her eyes. The sleeves came to her wrists where her hands remained tense.

She'd been quiet all through it, asking only a few questions but acting indifferent to whatever they said. At least she ate.

Mor thought everything had been going well, right up until Rhys mentioned the Court of Nightmares. It was like the world stopped moving outside as she stared at her cousin in shock. She knew, understood, why he wanted the Darkbringers to fight for him but he also knew why she hated it.

Yet he acted like it was his given right to do what he wanted without her input. He knew what Keir was like, how he'd torn her life apart but he didn't seem to care.

No one else said a word. They just let Rhys do what he liked. He was their High Lord but they were his Court. He should at least pretend he cared what they thought.

And then things got even messier when Nesta agreed to go with Amren to Hewn City. That part itself was fine but it was when Feyre tried to get her to talk to the other High Lords.

And the look on Nesta's face could have shattered worlds. There was downright fury in her eyes as she snapped back.

It was then Mor saw how the humans saw the fae. They weren't the beautiful and majestic creatures they thought themselves. The humans saw them as monsters; beasts that possessed strength and abused it to their hearts' desires. And that's what they all were to her.

Mor drained her glass of wine when she left. And went straight for the rest of the bottle. She needed to drown the memory of the hatred in her eyes.

The rest of the dinner was spent in an uncomfortable silence.

The others scattered afterward: Rhys and Feyre heading out for a walk together, Cassian going to clean his weapons and Amren after the book. That left her and Azriel alone.

Mor wanted to look for Nesta but with the shadowsinger's eyes on her, she knew she couldn't avoid him forever.

"Az…" she tried, trying to bite back the lump in her throat.

Azriel looked at her like she'd kicked his dog. He always looked at her like that with his eyes full of sadness and longing. Like it was her fault, he was heartsick. Mor swallowed uncomfortably.

"Az, things are going to be okay. Aren't they?"

He considered her for a second, eyes sweeping down her dress. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her when they'd been eating. And Mor didn't miss the way his gaze lingered lower than her face for longer than she liked.

He nodded, stepping forward. "Rhys has a plan," he assured her. "He knows what we're doing. We just need to trust him."

Something stung in the back of her mind. "I know… I do trust him. I just- Rhys knows how I feel about the Darkbringers, about-... about Keir."

A cold rage swept across Azriel's face, similar to Nesta's but oh-so different. Where Nesta held control over her anger, Azriel's rage was all internalised where it simmered until it exploded. Az didn't get angry a lot but when he did, anything standing in his way would burn. He wouldn't hesitate to hurt them.

And sometimes it scared her.

"I won't let him near you," he growled, nostrils flaring. "You don't have to leave my side."

Something thudded in Mor's ears. Azriel's heartbeat was strong but it was too quick to be normal. He was furious.

Mor took a step back. "That's good to know." Mor left without looking back to see his reaction.

Mor took off down the corridor the moment she was out of sight. She didn't know if he tried to follow her, she didn't even want to know. She needed to escape, escape from his sad gaze and dark eyes.

Her ears picked out something in the chaos of her mind, something strong and quick. She knew immediately it was Nesta's heart beating a millions miles an hour. She followed the heartbeat up and up until she emerged on a balcony overlooking the city. It looked beautiful at this time of the evening, glowing with life and lights.

"Mor." Nesta stood on the balcony, arms folded as she took her in. Her face was cold. Mor closed the door behind her.

Together they turned and gazed out across the city. From this high up, everything seemed so distant. It was like a paradise if they were the gods watching over their creations. But they weren't gods, they were quite the opposite.

"You're afraid again," Nesta commented. "And if you try to tell me it wasn't because of Azriel, I won't believe you."

"No. No, I'm not _afraid_ ," Mor sighed. "He doesn't scare me. He _worries_ me."

Nesta was silent. She didn't ask, didn't demand she answer; instead she waited. Just waited for her to talk. And Mor did.

"He… I love Az, don't get me wrong-" she said. "-he's a part of my family. But he doesn't see me that way." Nesta shifted so she stood closer. Their arm brushed together. "He thinks he's in love with me. But he isn't. He's _obsessed_ with me."

The wind suddenly picked up, seeing a chill down Mor's spine.

"For years, since we were young, he had a crush on me. But things… things got bad in my life. I was forced to do things that I didn't want to, things that were unnatural to myself. I took Cassian to bed to save myself from a life of enslavement."

Nesta didn't break her gaze. And for the first time, Mor felt the need to talk about her problems.

"Az never said a word to me but he took it the wrong way. He was angry with my father, yes, but he fought with Cassian too. Because I took Cassian instead of him. He's possessive, insisting that no one else could have me. He means so well but in reality… he's no better than any of my abusers."

Mor had never said it outloud before and it left her quaking where she stood. She was glad the railing was there because if it wasn't she might have fallen to her knees.

Nesta was like steel beside her, strong and steady, and when she took her hand, Mor gladly let her. A thumb rubbed the back of her hand, turning soothing circles on her skin.

"I'm sorry," Nesta murmured. "I can't even imagine, Mor…"

Mor leaned her head on her shoulder. Silence came over them again but it was comfortable. It was comforting and nice, something Mor felt like she wanted to last forever.

"Do the others know? How you feel about him?" Nesta whispered.

Mor shook her head. "I've never told anyone before. You're the first."

Nesta went quiet again and Mor didn't mind. She liked this, whatever they had between them. This was special. 

Nesta squeezed her hand. "You say it isn't fear in your heart—maybe it isn't—but it's a toxic emotion that you can't just keep around. You need to confront him on his behaviour."

"But this isn't the right time," Mor said weakly. "Not with Hybern and everything going on."

Nesta nodded. "Then until then, you need to avoid him. You're hurting yourself for him and you should never do that."

"Where can I go?"

Nesta arched a slender eyebrow. "You are quite oblivious, huh?" But her tone was teasing as she nudged her. "Azriel knows that I can't stand him, unlike his winged friend. He rarely comes near me without an order. And you know that."

"And you'd be okay with that?"

Nesta's laugh was a blessing on the world. "Believe it or not, dear Morrigan, I actually like you. It would be my pleasure to spend time with you." And it was there again, that smile that was so genuine and real.

And Mor found herself smiling with her.

* * *

When Mor was finally left alone after they'd returned from the Hewn City, she fled to her room and start to cry. She just couldn't believe what Rhys had done, how he'd betrayed her like this.

He _gave_ away her only safe haven in the world. He would let her father and his Court into the city she'd fought so hard to protect. And there'd been no warning, not a word to any one of the people he claimed to trust so much.

It was bullshit. The whole thing was bullshit. He was their High Lord, he should have been able to order Keir to help them because it should have been _his_ army. But because of some stupid laws, Rhys couldn't and she'd known negotiating would have to take place.

But this was a whole new level of low.

The mere idea that everything around her would no longer be safe almost tore her in half. It was her safe place, the place she'd recovered and found happiness in. And it was going to be taken away from her.

Mor didn't even know what she cried for, whether it was for her people or for her loss, but she did it all the same. She cried for didn't know how long.

Mor closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. And the noise was there, comforting and close. It was outside her door, beating quickly with a nervousness she'd never heard before. Mor tilted her head and smiled despite herself.

"Nesta."

The heartbeat quickened for a second and they stiffened. Then someone appeared in her doorway. It was Nesta, arms wrapped around herself.

"You heard me?"

Mor shrugged, wiping at her eyes. "Ever since that night, I can hear your heartbeat. It's always in the background of my mind. I felt you outside my door."

Nesta arched an eyebrow as she closed the door behind her. "You listen to my heartbeat?"

Mor nodded. "Sometimes. It's comforting. I'm sorry, that's probably strange and creepy—I didn't mean it like—"

"It's fine. I don't mind. Are you okay?"

"I-.. I just.. I can't believe Rhys would do that," Mor said, looking at her feet. "He's my cousin. I love him. But he went behind my back and turned everything I love over to my abusive ass of a father…" Nesta knew that, she'd been there for their conversation.

Mor wiped away her tears. "What about you? How's this shitty day going?"

Nesta shook her head as she sat down next to her. "The city was a bad idea. For all of us. I failed and Amren got annoyed." She stared at the floor. "And I'm really worried about Elain. She's been talking in riddles ever since we got back. She sounds crazy and I just.. I don't know what to do."

Now sitting right next to her, Mor saw that her eyes were red with recent tears. The barriers of ice and steel came down revealing what Nesta really was. A scared young girl so out of her depth in a world she knew nothing of.

Mor laughed bitterly. "We're a mess, aren't we?"

Nesta answering smile was enough. They moved instinctively for each other and by the end of the night, Mor lay entangled on her bed with Nesta. There was nothing sexual about it, just both needing a comfort for the night.

Nesta was warm and soft, and she smelt lavender. Mor didn't feel the need to cry because with Nesta, she felt safe. She felt like she wasn't alone. Yes, those feelings of dread and unhappiness were still there but she knew she wasn't carrying them alone.

And with her head pressed to the woman's chest, she didn't have to focus to hear Nesta's heartbeat. Dub-dub. Dub-dub. It was strong and steady, reflecting how relaxed she was. Together, they were calm and sleep found them swiftly.

* * *

Feyre and Nesta had nearly died in the library when the Ravens attacked. The only reason they were alive was because of Cassian who rushed in to save the sisters. Mor thanked the Cauldron that her friend had been around when they needed him.

She and Elain waited for the others to return. At some point between their first meeting and now, Elain had grown to trust her. She didn't talk to her but she curled easily on the couch beside her. Mor wondered if she knew what was going on or what she was thinking. Her gaze was blank as she stared off into space.

Nesta entered the room, eyes stormy as she sat on Elain's other side. She met Mor's gaze and gave her a small nod of reassurance. Nesta was okay.

She felt relieved. After all that had happened, if the world decided to tear Nesta away from her too, she didn't know if she could take it. But fate wasn't so cruel.

Rhys, Feyre and Cassian entered; each splattered a bit in blood but looking okay. They'd all made it out without any fatal wounds. Some wounds would scar but none would leave any lasting damage. Though the tattoo along Feyre's arm was new, dark ink swirling up to her elbow. However, now was not the time to ask as they'd more pressing issues to attend to. Namely the breach of the wards.

Azriel appeared out of shadows silently, his face grim as he took them in. His shadows curled around him, reflecting his mood.

Rhys explained how they made it past the barrier; a cleaving spell of immense power. Fortunately it could only be used once. Very convenient for them.

Nesta was quiet while they talked; she was always quiet. But she kept meeting her gaze, giving her small nods of encouragement. It made her feel that much better.

"She might be coming. The queen made of flame," Elain said like it made all the sense in the world.

But no one understood. Except for Az.

He stepped forward, talking calmly in his low voice. And for once, his gaze was fixed on another woman. His eyes were so intense but so bright at the same time.

Nesta's jaw tightened.

Azriel looked at Elain and nodded. "The Cauldron made you a seer."

The penny dropped and the room went silent. Because… It made sense, all of it. Elain _knew_ about the Ravens, knew about things that were to happen. She wasn't going crazy—she was seeing the future.

Elain turned to Mor. "Is that what this is?" She sounded so… so normal. And her smile was genuine.

Mor was amazed. Seers were rare, even rarer that daemati. To have one just sitting in their lap, unknown to them… it was unthinkable.

Elain smiled at her again and Mor nodded. "Yes… it must be."

And the whole conversation took a new turn. Vassa, the sixth queen, alive but turned into a creature of fire. They needed to find her. So Lucien volunteered. He was to search for her while they remained trying to battle of Hybern.

And they dispersed to do their assigned tasks.

Rhys ordered her and Cassian to find out from Keir and his Darkbringers whether or not the Court of Nightmares suffered too. She left intending to go but she that before she left for somewhere she hated, she needed a conversation elsewhere.

Cassian touched her arm. "Hey," he said softly, startling her out of her thoughts. "Sorry. I just- I can go. I can find out alone. He only needs one question."

Mor understood what he was offering and was grateful. "Thank you, Cass. I owe you one."

Cassian's grin was wide as he flared his wings. "I can think of _many_ ways you can make it up to me," he teased.

Mor nudged him, feeling herself smile. "Oh, get lost, you oversized bat!"

They parted ways and Mor headed upstairs to where she knew Nesta was. Mor entered the sisters' bedroom.

Nesta sat by the window, chin balanced on her hands. She didn't look up when she came in but Mor saw the flicker in her eyes.

"Hey, I wanted to check in on you."

"Aren't you just the sweetest? I'm fine, thanks for asking." Nesta sounded bitter.

"Really? You don't look it," Mor said. She sat down next to her.

Nesta grimaced and sighed. "I didn't see it," she whispered softly. "I thought she was going crazy but in fact, she was the only one of us who could see."

"You didn't know. If anything _I_ should have seen it; I've met seers before. None like her but still."

Nesta shrugged and glanced back. "I feel guilty though. She must have felt like we weren't listening to her." A dark cloud passed over her. "And I know how horrible that is."

So did Mor. She knew what it was like to have people ignore your desires. And watch your life crumble before your eyes.

"Do you want to go out?" she blurted suddenly.

Nesta arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" but her tone was playful.

"No! Not like that! I mean, out—into the city. I'll take you dancing."

Nesta tilted her head to the side. Mor held her breath as she considered. Nesta offered her hand and Mor pulled her up. But Nesta didn't let go, instead she adjusted her grip to hold it easier.

"Okay. Take me, Mor."

Something warm filled Mor's chest and she beamed. The night was still young and theirs for the taking. And with Nesta at her side, she knew the world wasn't ready. They'd take it by storm.

Nesta's dress was lovely but they both needed to change into something… less extravagant. When Nesta slid off the thin material, Mor fully saw just how thin she was.

Hand-in-hand, they left the house without a word to the others. The streets were alive with music and people; the civilians unknowing about the war that raged against their Court. It was pure and simple, and Mor loved it.

Mor took Nesta to Rita's, somewhere she knew there wouldn't be commotion. It was lively but not lively enough to spook her.

Nesta's eyes were bright in the light as she pulled her out onto the dancefloor. The accompanying band played a loud folk tune, and they spun in circles around each other. Soon the whole bar was up and dancing in rows.

Nesta was smiling as she flitted by Mor. Mor always enjoyed herself at Rita's but with her next to her, it was only better. Nesta didn't know the dances of Velaris but she quickly caught on. Her heart was soon racing. Even through the din of the music and voices, she could hear it. 'Hear' maybe wasn't the right word—perhaps felt. She could feel Nesta's heartbeat like it was her own.

When the time came for the partner dance, both of them were exhausted but excited. Nesta clung to her arm, laughing softly. Mor swore there wasn't a more beautiful sound in the world.

The music slowed down to more of a waltz, quick but bouncy and the floor split into couples gliding by in each others arms. Nesta threaded her hands behind Mor's neck as she guided her across the floor.

"Thank you," Nesta said, over the noise of the dancing. "For everything."

Mor tipped back her head and laughed. They hadn't drunken anything but she was high on pure adrenaline. The rush was making her giddy, making her happy and letting her forget all the troubles of the day.

And Nesta's smile, that damn beautiful smile, was only the cherry on the cake.

They danced for she didn't know long, jumping to the quicker ones and waltzing to the slower ones, until they escaped from the bar, wrapped in each others' arms.

Outside on the streets, the sun was starting to rise. It was warm and glowed yellow, turning the streets to gold. It was hard to believe only a few hours ago Nesta had been fighting for her life. That stress had been lost hours ago on the dancefloor.

Nesta leaned over to kiss her cheek. The soft contact made Mor's heart flutter and Nesta's grin told her she felt it. Her hand found hers.

"Thank you—for the best night of my life."

* * *

Unfortunately their happiness was short-lived. For the day afterwards, after sleeping in together, Hybern attacked the Summer Court.

Amren rushed in, face cold but eyes furious as she told them of the message. Prince Varian sent her a message; not to request aid but to warn her of what was to come.

Mor knew they needed to leave as soon as possible.

Rhys, Cassian and Azriel vanished to raise the Illyrian armies to their side but Mor stayed to ready herself with Feyre. She slid Illyrian leathers on and strapped blades to her hips. Slim, curved blades that she hadn't taken out for years.

But they fit so perfectly into the palm of her hands, like it was only yesterday she'd received them. She slid them into her belt.

Nesta watched her from the stairs. "Will you fight?" she asked, tone neutral.

"We'll fight if it's required." Feyre hardly spared her sister a glance as she readied her knives. A whole row of them lined her waist.

Honestly, Mor didn't know why she was coming with them. She had great power, yes—but she had had no time to master it. Surely, it would be impossible? Which was why Rhys asked her to look over her.

Mor would have anyway but now under orders, she knew he'd blame her if anything happened.

"What do you know of battle?" Nesta scoffed.

"We know plenty." Mor hadn't meant to be so snappy but Nesta didn't understand. She didn't understand how important this was. Or the danger they were all in.

"We'll send word when we can," Feyre nodded.

Nesta didn't look satisfied but nodded anyway. She looked like she wanted to say something else.

"They've arrived. Let's go." Rhys must have sent word down their bond. And from the look on her face, Feyre hated to be apart from her mate.

Nesta was still standing there. She had a mask of calm but Mor saw the tension in her hands. She saw the fear in her eyes and the way her lips curved tightly. She was afraid.

More specifically, afraid for her.

Of course she was worried about her sister too but Nesta had eyes only for her. They met Mor's gaze and there was a desperation in them. Begging her not to go—to stay safe.

But she had to go. She needed to fight for the Summer Court. Tarquin's people didn't deserve this.

"It's nothing we can't handle," she said, forcing a cocky smile and then she winnowed the two of them out.

It had been so long since Mor had entered a battle that it startled her. The sounds, the scent, just the feelings in the air. It terrified her, drew back unwanted memories, but she forced herself to concentrate. Both their lives and the lives of the innocent fae were in danger.

Feyre was shaking. Her first kill was difficult but after the second, her hands became steady. But the look in her eyes never vanished.

Mor killed enemy after enemy, almost feeling numb to the slice of her blade through their necks. It was like old times; she just slipped back into her battle-hardened self. Soon her leathers were covered in blood. None of it was hers.

The battle was won but the win was hard pressed for the Summer Court. The Night Court suffered losses but nowhere near as bad as Tarquin's people.

Mor didn't sleep well that night. War was something that, no matter how old she was, would always come back and haunt her. Her dreams were a blur but when she opened her eyes, her heart was racing.

She almost cried with joy when Rhys told her they were returning home. But she kept it inside, just nodding in his direction.

Nesta was waiting in the foyer for them. She stood up immediately when they winnowed in. Relief flooded her eyes but she schooled her face in a mask. Mor could see her scanning the bodies, across their faces, to check for wounds.

"Where is he?" she said calmly.

"Who?" Rhys asked.

"Cassian."

Mor felt a jolt of shock run down her spine. Not even a glance towards her. She asked about _Cassian_.

"He's busy," she snapped with more ice in her voice than she ever had. Because she was upset, upset that Nesta hardly even seemed to care.

Nesta held her gaze, not backing down. The shield in her gaze was up preventing her from seeing what she was really feeling.

"Mor," Rhys warned.

She could feel all their eyes on her, feel their concern and confusion. Mor winnowed up to the balcony. The conversation continued downstairs but she didn't care. She just simmered in the cold and the wind.

"Mor-" Nesta was at the door, after what seemed like an age. She ran over to her side. "Mor-"

"Why do you do that?" Mor turned, raising her hands in question. "You act like you don't care. And then you ask about _Cassian_?"

"Mor…"

"Nesta… I just don't understand," she said. "I don't _understand_ what you think about me. Look, you're here now. Yet if any of the others were around, you'd ignore me. Why? Why do we have to hide?"

For a few seconds, Mor thought Nesta wasn't going to say anything. She just looked at her with those blue-grey eyes of ice. But the ice melted and Nesta's smile was sad.

"Mor… growing up I never had any friends," Nesta said softly. "I never had anyone I could turn to. All I had was Elain and Feyre. And, no matter what she'd tell you or herself, Feyre hated me."

Nesta walked to stand beside her. "I'm scared, Mor. Anytime was life was ever looking like it may have been changing for the better, something comes along and ruins it." A hand ran along her ears—her fae ears. "It's like a curse. Like I can never be happy."

Nesta raised her head to look at her. And the warmth in her eyes was unlike anything Mor had ever seen. "But I'm happy with you. You make me smile, make me feel as though the world is mine and we can take it together."

Nesta took her hand. "But I find it so hard to admit I care. To even show it… I'm sorry. Because I'm scared you'll be taken away from me. With Hybern and the other fae, I just can't… It's a weak excuse and _I'm sorry_."

Mor gazed down at her hand. Nesta was shaking.

"Mor… say something."

Mor reached in for a hug. Nesta stiffened but she didn't push her away. Mor took this as acceptance. "Nesta… nothing, and I mean _nothing_ , will take me away from you," she promised. "

Nesta sank into the hug and buried her her head in her shoulder. She was still shaking but gradually her body stilled. Her arms wrapped around her.

"I'm sorry," Nesta whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Mor leaned back and kissed her forehead. "Don't be. You don't need to be sorry." Mor smiled. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

There was brief moment in which Mor didn't understand the emotion in Nesta's eyes. It was bright, it was fierce, but it was also calm and beautiful. She seemed to struggle for words.

"Mor, I-.. I...Thank you," she settled on. "Thank you."

The fire cooled.

"Come on," Mor said. "I'll fill you in on what happened in the Summer Court."

* * *

Mor could feel the others looking at her. She could feel Feyre's questions about last night and what they'd heard from their room. But they didn't say a word. She tried to concentrate on eating but her mind wasn't up to it. And Cassian was not helping.

She'd gone to bed with Helion, Helion the beautiful High Lord of the Day Court. He was a stunning man—as radiant as the sun, you may say—and a wonderful lover but Mor didn't feel anything.

She just felt exhausted.

She knew it showed on her face and she wondered maybe it was time to come clean. But she remember who she was dealing with and kept her mouth shut.

The morning meeting was the same as yesterday: just bickering drama between Tamlin and Rhys. Mor thought briefly of interrupting and asking them to just compare sizes. She might have if it hadn't been them, if she hadn't known what happened to Feyre.

Tamlin spat furiously about what happened to his Court, what Feyre had done and Mor saw the panic in her friend's expression. Feyre hadn't thought that her actions might have consequences on the innocents that the Spring Court protected. Or that they may have needed the army she'd so gleefully torn apart.

But then Nesta let out a sharp pained breath and surged from her chair. She staggered to the side, her mask of cold replaced by pain.

Mor saw Feyre move but she was quicker. She was at Nesta's side in an instant, gripping her arms. Blue-grey eyes met hers and Mor saw the fear in them.

"What's wrong?" she asked frantically.

Nesta's face looked pale as she swayed. But Mor caught her. Her expression was pained, confused. Mor wrapped an arm around her waist. "Nesta?!"

"Something… it..." Nesta turned past her and vomited. Her body was wracked by spasms.

"Poison?" Kallias said, rising from his seat.

Thesan and Helion strode forward, power flickering around them. Thesan placed a hand on her arm while Helion's perfect eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Nothing," they both said, and stepped back. Concern flooded their faces.

Nesta leaned her head on Mor's shoulder, her breathing ragged. "Something is wrong. Not with me," she panted. "Not with me."

The Cauldron.

Mor's gaze flicked to Rhys. He wasn't looking at them but at the shadowsinger in the corner. They must have been talking as Azriel moved to the window like he was going to fly. But he didn't get the chance.

Nesta moaned like she was going to be sick again.

But then they all felt it.

A surge of power that washed over them like their shields were nothing. It flowed through the land and the air, through everything connected. Like something ancient had decided to take back the land.

Nesta vomited again and this time, Mor lowered her to the floor. Nesta clung to her, body weak and tense. "Nesta, you'll be okay," she said quietly, rubbing circles on her back. "You'll be okay."

The same could not be said about everyone else. For the High Lords exchanged worried looks, hands tensed and wings shook. They'd all felt it and knew what it meant.

The Wall had been destroyed.

The meeting was swiftly broken up as everyone left one by one. The Night Court were the last ones to leave and Mor stayed by Nesta's side the whole time.

She wouldn't have moved anyway but Nesta had a tense grip on her arms and a wild look in her eyes that begged her to stay. Mor rubbed soothing circles into the small of her back as she whispered sweet mumbles in an effort to comfort her.

When they winnowed back to Velaris, Mor took Nesta up to her room immediately. Elain followed her.

Elain didn't seem to be as affected as Nesta, for she had not taken something from the Cauldron. But even then, she was oddly pale.

"You both need to rest," Mor insisted as she readied their bed. "And drink water and eat." She moved to unzip Nesta's dress. "I'll get you a remedy if you need help."

Nesta's laugh was a pitiful echo of her usual. "Okay, _mother_ ," she sniffed as she slid off the beautiful gown.

Neither of them argued as she made they get ready for bed. Elain was drowsily humming as Mor undid her hair for her.

"You know Mor," she commented absentmindedly. "You're really nice."

"Thank you, Elain. That's really sweet."

Elain shrugged. "I can see why Nesta likes you so much."

Mor's hands froze mid-way through removing Elain's braid. She didn't seem to notice Mor had stopped and just hummed away to herself. Mor noticed Nesta had also stiffened from where she sat.

"She does?" Mor tested.

Elain nodded. "Oh yeah… she's always talking about you… you know, the way she tries not to smile but ends up smiling anyway." Elain broke out into what might have been a grin. "She thinks you're pretty too."

"I do not!" Nesta protested weakly.

Mor arched an eyebrow at her and Nesta blushed. "I mean, you _are_ insanely beautiful but that's _not_ what I-! No-... Elain!" she tried but she was failing badly. Nesta settled for folding her arms and looking away, her blush still staining her cheeks.

Elain and Mor giggled to themselves.

"You are insufferable," Nesta huffed.

Mor laughed softly before leaning down to kiss her cheek. "But that's what you like," she said teasingly.

Nesta rolled her eyes. "Maybe so… but that doesn't mean anything!"

Mor suppressed another laugh. "Get some rest, I'll see you in the morning."

For a second Nesta looked like she wanted to say something. But she didn't and for some reason, Mor felt disappointed.

Mor left the room and pressed her back to the door. Her heart was racing in her chest. Mor pressed a hand to her chest, feeling its quick rhythm.

"What's wrong with me?" she whispered. "Why…" Her chest tightened.

She knew. She knew what was wrong but she was pushing it down. Mor inhaled. No, she couldn't do it. Not now, not anytime. With her, it would never be the right time. Mor shook her head. She had to rest. Mor went back to her room and went to sleep.

* * *

There was fire in her blood, hot and surging as she tore her way through Hybern's army. Her mind was focused only on fighting. She had no other goal in mind but to get to Cassian.

Cassian was swamped by Hybernian soldiers only fifty metres away from her. He was battling hard but both Mor and Azriel saw the sweat rolling down his forehead. He was close to spent. Not the mention the commander at the head of his men. The one taking swings at Cassian with his blade coated in faebane. The antidote meant it did not affect him but it sliced through his shields like butter.

Azriel's fury was silent as he fought beside her. His siphons were pulsing and he started cutting a path towards his best friend. Bodies fell with each strike.

Mor risked a glance up at the hill. Feyre was nowhere to be seen but Nesta was still there. Nesta was still watching her. The noise was there, the tiny beat of a heart. Nesta's heart.

Mor whipped her head around, just in time to see Cassian topple to the ground. His roar of pain echoed across the field.

Azriel took to the air, his shadows whirling around him like a hurricane.

"Cassian!" she cried. Mor felt something bestial raise its head from within her. In rage and fear, she powered through until she reached his side. The commander had torn a vicious wound running from the stomach to his hip. HIs eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned.

After dragging Cassian back behind the lines, the rest of the night was a blur. All Mor felt was the rush of battle. The air hummed tensely with power and blood coated her skin. Hardly any of it was hers.

The battle had been won but at what cost? So many dead for such a tiny victory. Hybern had been stopped but for how long? It tired her.

Feyre was being an ass. And Mor snapped in anger. How could she not understand why she couldn't just leave in the middle of a war? And to go ahead and blame her for her actions, Mor couldn't believe her.

After fleeing to her tent, Mor broke down. For too long she'd done this, hidden her true feelings from those she cared about. Because deep down, she was still the scared little girl she'd been all those years ago. Scared of the people around her and what they might do.

She didn't know how long she cried for. She would cried for longer if not for sudden cry of pain.

Her ears pricked. Something was wrong with Nesta.

Mor sprinted from her tent across the camp. She ran as fast as she could. "Nesta! Nesta!"

Nesta sat crumpled on the ground, one hand tightly gripping Feyre. She was sobbing into her sister's shoulder. Mor knew what was wrong the moment she saw her face.

Elain. They'd taken Elain. There was roar in Nesta's heart, a sharp pain and it sped up. Her sister was gone.

Mor had sworn she'd look out for them. She swore she'd protect them. But staring at the cloak in Rhys' hand and the pain on Nesta's face, she knew she failed. She'd failed them.

Nesta just curled inwards on herself, not talking to any of them. Mor wanted to go over and comfort her yet something held her back. Nesta didn't want any attention right now.

She talked a little when they were deciding how to retrieve Elain. She pretty much refused to let them go, especially the injured idiot Cassian.

But when Feyre and Az came up with their plan, she went quiet again. And let them go.

Mor wanted to go with Feyre and Azriel but she knew that for what they were doing, she just wasn't suited for it. She couldn't shift her features like Feyre or blend into the night like Az. She'd just be a burden.

But that didn't mean every inch of her wanted to go with them.

Mor found Nesta sitting in her tent. When the two left, she'd retreated into it and not come out since. She stood at the entrance, nervously wringing her wrists. Nesta glanced up once then looked back down at her feet.

Mor's heart sank. "Nesta, I'm so sorry."

Nesta barked a bitter laugh. "You know it's not your fault. It wasn't anyone's but mine. Taking her to a war camp? What was I thinking…" She held her head with her hands. "Maybe we wouldn't even need her to stop the Cauldron. I should have thought of _her_ first!"

Mor knelt down in front of her. She took her hands in her own and pressed a kiss to both palms.

"Everything will work out, I promise. Feyre and Azriel will bring her back, I know they will."

Nesta tilted her head. "You really think they'll succeed?"

"I trust that they will. You'd be surprised how ruthless Feyre can be to get what she wants."

Nesta nodded, looking tired. "My sister is surprising me with a lot of new things recently." She shook her head. "I'm not helping by moping by myself. What can I do?"

Mor stood up and kissed her forehead. "Rest. You're doing no good when you're worked up like this. Just get some rest and tomorrow we can try something."

Nesta blinked once. "If you want me to rest, you need to too. You fought after all." Something in the way she said it made Mor think she knew about her argument with Feyre.

Mor sat on the edge of the makeshift bed. "I'll be right next to you," she promised. "I'll watch over you when you sleep."

Nesta took her hand. "You are too good, Mor," she whispered. But after gentle coaxing, Mor finally got her to rest. She curled up in her cot, still clutching her hand. Mor found it adorable and held her hand while she slept.

And that night, Mor sat guard over Nesta because she'd let it slip once. But she was not going to let anything happen to Nesta.

* * *

When the war was finally over, Nesta didn't take part in the celebrations. Everyone rejoiced and drank to their heart's content. Mor had to admit she did a bit of that too. There was singing and cheery talking around dinner and drink. They all had the time of their lives.

But not Nesta. Nesta had lost whatever progress she'd made since becoming fae; she hardly ate or slept. She just looked hollow.

And Mor was getting a little worried. She excused herself from the celebrations and made her way to Nesta's room. She rarely came out anymore.

"Hey."

Nesta looked around as if she'd been expecting her. She tilted her head. "I can still hear it, you know," she murmured. "Your heartbeat. I can tune it out but I just… it's soothing."

Mor joined her on her bed, sitting close to her. "Are you okay? You're not celebrating with the rest of us."

"I'm just… working through some things," Nesta said softly. "I lost my father that day. He came back for us. And died for us."

Mor took her hand and squeezed it. Mor never knew Papa Acheron but she knew all three sisters loved him greatly. But it was taking the greatest toll on Nesta. Their lives were such a mess. One thing after another just went wrong. Mor just wanted to stop and let Nesta be happy. She deserved it.

"Did I tell you Cassian kissed me?" Nesta said suddenly.

Mor felt herself freeze and knew Nesta did too. She cursed herself internally. "He did?" she tried casually.

Nesta nodded. "He was injured and the King of Hybern was facing us down. I lost control and wasted my power. I couldn't do anything but protect him. Because… even if he's insufferable, he didn't deserve to die. Especially not to that bastard."

Mor didn't know where this tale was going.

"So I shielded him and he… he may have taken my actions the wrong way. You've seen the way he looks at me. He thinks he's in love with me and he think I love him back."

"...do you?"

Nesta looked up at her and smiled. "I have standards, Mor," she smiled teasingly. "People need to be more than just handsome and flirty to get my attention."

Mor arched an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

Nesta was grinning now. "Oh yes. They need to be kind and gentle, but also fierce when they need to be. They need to care about me without wanting anything from me in return. Because that's simply how they are. They need to be caring and always concerned when they should be worrying about themselves."

She laughed. "It's quite adorable really. They need to be protective but not controlling, and passionate but calm. They need to be able to smile and be happy, even when the world brings them to their knees. Because I'll be there to help them stand."

Nesta leaned closer, a soft hand coming to cup her cheek. Her breath stirred against Mor's lips which parted instinctively.

"You are one of a kind, Mor," she breathed. "And I love you."

Then she kissed her. There was no hesitation in Nesta's kiss. It was hot and fiery, filled with a desperate longing that had been building up between them. Mor kissed her back, weaving her hands into her hair. She'd thought so many times about this kiss but there were no words to describe how perfect it was. This was what made her feel truly happy.

"I… I love you too," Mor gasped.

Nesta's smile was the most beautiful thing about her. And she kissed her again, this one slow and sweet like they had all the time in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos are much appreciated ^-^ 
> 
> Well, I had such a blast writing this. I honestly love these two so much, despite my other opinions on the book. I just want them to have a happy ending!! They deserve it ;;;;;
> 
> Anyway, this fic does not diverge from canon at all. Any bit that actually happens is word for word in dialogue and the actions are from Mor's view. Most of it, while not strictly canon, could very much have happened. So enjoy that :) 
> 
> Thank y'all so much and if you want to chat or see what I'm up to, check out my Tumblr (the-demons-behind-your-smile). Thanks again :0)))))))))))


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